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Title: Intact
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ceredwensirius
Written For:whitmans_kiss because she needs moar fic written for her
Rating: R
Word Count: 1420
Warnings: erectile dysfunction
Characters/Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Summary: Remus has a plan.
Author's notes: Post-Veil!Sirius So, because my Sirius in RP is dealing with erectile dysfunction I imagine until that is resolved, some of my bunnies will continue to revolve around this. Follows game canon on lolly_says. Also, unbeta'd.
Once they return from St.Mungo’s, Sirius is sure he feels Remus’ eyes warming his back as he climbs the stairs with his box of potion phials under his arm. He doesn’t turn around to look, because this is hard enough to deal with on its own. He doesn’t relish the thought of adding whatever complicated and indecipherable-on-the-best-of-days layer Moony is currently intrigued with. It also wouldn’t do to blush, and Sirius is certain that he would.
Once upstairs, he squirrels the box away in his nightstand drawer beside his tube of lube and inspiring photograph of Remus. All of eighteen years old, he is laid out on a bed of fresh straw in some unsuspecting farmer’s barn in Greece, gazing intently at Sirius as he took the picture, a piece of hay hanging indolent from his lips. Remus is nude except for the ripped shirt Sirius hadn’t fully managed to tear of his lithe, toned body. His skin glows with the healthy bronze of a Mediterranean sun, and he looks like some thoroughly debauched lesser god. The look in Remus’ eye is rare; unwavering and unashamed, making promises that round two would commence shortly.
Sirius feels want course through him, but whatever the physiological process is that should make his cock stiffen in response, it doesn’t happen. He looks at the picture once more, his beautiful Remus who could turn a straight boy queer, and this this is Sirius’ final straw. Because if young, naked Remus lounging seductively in hay couldn’t get him hard, then he really did need this stupid potion, and his pride could go get fucked. Taking one of the phials out of the box, Sirius opens it and tips the contents into his mouth and swallows. The taste isn’t bad, though it has a bit of kick to it as it goes down. If taking one of these potions every morning means he can be whole again, then Sirius can live with it.
Once he’s back downstairs, Sirius avoids eye contact with Remus like his life depends on it. Remus only wants to know if he took the damn potion; he realizes that. But he doesn’t want to be responsible for the stupid grin he’d give Remus in affirmation. So until he’s sure he can control that, there will be no meeting of the eyes for any reason.
The day is still early yet, and they have things they must do, which is a bit of a relief. He’s hoping for a brief moment to slip away to visit his lube and photo. But as luck would have it, Draco and Harry are occupying the same breathing space in the drawing room. Sirius gets drawn into Harry’s jealousy game, which is only slightly more mature than a three year old stealing his older brother’s toy and screaming ‘Mine!’ Draco is trying to make the best of a bad situation and looks like last year would be too soon to get out of this room.
Somewhere in the house are Teddy and Remus, having a perfectly lovely afternoon, which Sirius knows by the occasional peal of laughter he hears from Teddy. If Sirius didn’t know better, he would think that Remus had set this up. But Remus is a nice man, he’d never do something like this.
Right, keep telling yourself that, mate.
One more trip to St, Mungo’s later, Sirius returns with two patched-up teenagers and orders them both to their room in a tone of voice he hasn’t heard since before his father died.
Fuck me.
Draco stills, and looks at Sirius warily, and then watches for Harry’s reaction. Harry pauses for one minute, and then both Harry and Sirius double over with laughter. Who is he kidding? And besides, the kid was eighteen now, not like he actually has to listen to Sirius. He then flicks a look at Draco, and reminds him with one glance that his situation was not the same at all. A muscle jumps in Draco’s jaw, before he walks out of the room with as much dignity as he can.
“You’re a bastard sometimes, aren’t you?” says Harry, which is surprising given how much Harry loaths Draco.
“Draco, I was just kidding,” yells Sirius. “Get your arse back here.”
“Sod off!”
Ah, balance is once again restored.
Collapsing into the couch, Sirius smiles at Harry, and opens his mouth to ask him when Auror training starts. He is interrupted by Remus, standing in the doorway and looking very pleased with himself.
“I got Teddy down,” he says.
Apparently, ‘I got Teddy down’ is code for Harry to leave the room. He tells Sirius he’ll catch up with him later, and as Sirius watches in mystified surprise, Harry mutters something to Remus on his way out.
“What’s this?” asks Sirius. “You and our godson plotting against me?”
“Not really,” says Remus easily as he walks, no stalks, better make that prowls over to Sirius. “He just knows that we’ve been busy all day, and with Teddy down, it means we can have some time to visit.”
Visit thinks Sirius, and wonders if that is a euphemism for- If my godson knows; no, wait, there’s worse - if my godson is trying to-
Sirius halts his thought process right there. Nothing good could come from finishing that sentence.
“Ah,” says Sirius. He’s pretty sure he knows the game at this point. He’s not stupid, but there is of course one problem with this scenario.
“How are they?” asks Remus as he sits. He puts a little more emphasis on the ‘h’ then strictly necessary.
“Alive and intact,” replies Sirius, in what is more of a grunt than actual speech.
“Intact,” repeats Remus, and the way he says it, adds innuendo that the word wasn’t really designed to carry.
“Fancy a drink?” asks Sirius as he pops up. How does one say, ‘Yes, I can see where you’re going with this, but couldn’t you let me get the first one on my own. Just to make sure its all working proper?’
“What’re you having?” asks Remus. There is something amused in his tone.
Glad you can find the humor, grumbles Sirius; except that he doesn’t. “Beer.”
“I’ll just have a few sips of yours,” purrs Remus. Instead of answering, which will only give Remus another opportunity to try out his (normally rather effective) repertoire of seduction vocalizations, Sirius just retrieves the beer and resumes his seat.
Remus backs off at first, and lets Sirius relax a bit with his beer. Before long they are laughing, and shortly after that, Remus kisses him. Sirius knows that now is the time to stop this, while he could still think rationally enough to make these sorts of choices. But Remus kisses him like he was trying to swallow that obnoxious laugh of his. Like he was trying to pull it into his body through his tongue, and then rational thoughts are rendered useful in theory only.
The first wave of desire and arousal that rolls through him is different, because what has been missing, isn’t any longer. He can feel the first stirrings, and oh god oh god oh god, it is just like coming home. Suddenly he’s not thirty-eight, he’s eighteen, with a hard dick and a very willing partner he trusts.
“Slow down, Padfoot,” laughs Remus. Clearly he appreciates the enthusiasm that Sirius brings to everything he does. “Here, oh god - there you are,” he whispers in Sirius’ ear, fingers tracing along the hard ridge bulging at the front of his trousers. “I missed this.”
Sirius missed this too, but honestly, his verbal skills have lost one or two rungs on the evolutionary ladder. All he can really do is feel and respond, letting his body follow the to and fro that is quickly building to a crescendo. His hips buck into Remus hand, desperate and eager.
“If only you could see yourself, Sirius,” whispers Remus. “You are the most amazing creature when you’re about to come.”
Sirius pulls him in for a hard kiss, desperate to taste his mouth again. Remus hand presses down and rubs in earnest. Sirius explodes, heavy and light at once, a sticky wet heat flooding his pants.
“Mmm,” says Remus. “Thank you.”
Sirius raises an eyebrow to question what for, as verbal skills are still currently offline.
Remus smiles a smile caught somewhere between sheepish and smug. “I wanted to be the first to do that for you, even before you did.”
Sirius feels too good to be annoyed by that at this point. The bloody damn potion worked, and honestly, he couldn’t quite remember why that was a bad thing.
Author:
ceredwensiriusWritten For:
whitmans_kiss because she needs moar fic written for herRating: R
Word Count: 1420
Warnings: erectile dysfunction
Characters/Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Summary: Remus has a plan.
Author's notes: Post-Veil!Sirius So, because my Sirius in RP is dealing with erectile dysfunction I imagine until that is resolved, some of my bunnies will continue to revolve around this. Follows game canon on lolly_says. Also, unbeta'd.
Once they return from St.Mungo’s, Sirius is sure he feels Remus’ eyes warming his back as he climbs the stairs with his box of potion phials under his arm. He doesn’t turn around to look, because this is hard enough to deal with on its own. He doesn’t relish the thought of adding whatever complicated and indecipherable-on-the-best-of-days layer Moony is currently intrigued with. It also wouldn’t do to blush, and Sirius is certain that he would.
Once upstairs, he squirrels the box away in his nightstand drawer beside his tube of lube and inspiring photograph of Remus. All of eighteen years old, he is laid out on a bed of fresh straw in some unsuspecting farmer’s barn in Greece, gazing intently at Sirius as he took the picture, a piece of hay hanging indolent from his lips. Remus is nude except for the ripped shirt Sirius hadn’t fully managed to tear of his lithe, toned body. His skin glows with the healthy bronze of a Mediterranean sun, and he looks like some thoroughly debauched lesser god. The look in Remus’ eye is rare; unwavering and unashamed, making promises that round two would commence shortly.
Sirius feels want course through him, but whatever the physiological process is that should make his cock stiffen in response, it doesn’t happen. He looks at the picture once more, his beautiful Remus who could turn a straight boy queer, and this this is Sirius’ final straw. Because if young, naked Remus lounging seductively in hay couldn’t get him hard, then he really did need this stupid potion, and his pride could go get fucked. Taking one of the phials out of the box, Sirius opens it and tips the contents into his mouth and swallows. The taste isn’t bad, though it has a bit of kick to it as it goes down. If taking one of these potions every morning means he can be whole again, then Sirius can live with it.
Once he’s back downstairs, Sirius avoids eye contact with Remus like his life depends on it. Remus only wants to know if he took the damn potion; he realizes that. But he doesn’t want to be responsible for the stupid grin he’d give Remus in affirmation. So until he’s sure he can control that, there will be no meeting of the eyes for any reason.
The day is still early yet, and they have things they must do, which is a bit of a relief. He’s hoping for a brief moment to slip away to visit his lube and photo. But as luck would have it, Draco and Harry are occupying the same breathing space in the drawing room. Sirius gets drawn into Harry’s jealousy game, which is only slightly more mature than a three year old stealing his older brother’s toy and screaming ‘Mine!’ Draco is trying to make the best of a bad situation and looks like last year would be too soon to get out of this room.
Somewhere in the house are Teddy and Remus, having a perfectly lovely afternoon, which Sirius knows by the occasional peal of laughter he hears from Teddy. If Sirius didn’t know better, he would think that Remus had set this up. But Remus is a nice man, he’d never do something like this.
Right, keep telling yourself that, mate.
One more trip to St, Mungo’s later, Sirius returns with two patched-up teenagers and orders them both to their room in a tone of voice he hasn’t heard since before his father died.
Fuck me.
Draco stills, and looks at Sirius warily, and then watches for Harry’s reaction. Harry pauses for one minute, and then both Harry and Sirius double over with laughter. Who is he kidding? And besides, the kid was eighteen now, not like he actually has to listen to Sirius. He then flicks a look at Draco, and reminds him with one glance that his situation was not the same at all. A muscle jumps in Draco’s jaw, before he walks out of the room with as much dignity as he can.
“You’re a bastard sometimes, aren’t you?” says Harry, which is surprising given how much Harry loaths Draco.
“Draco, I was just kidding,” yells Sirius. “Get your arse back here.”
“Sod off!”
Ah, balance is once again restored.
Collapsing into the couch, Sirius smiles at Harry, and opens his mouth to ask him when Auror training starts. He is interrupted by Remus, standing in the doorway and looking very pleased with himself.
“I got Teddy down,” he says.
Apparently, ‘I got Teddy down’ is code for Harry to leave the room. He tells Sirius he’ll catch up with him later, and as Sirius watches in mystified surprise, Harry mutters something to Remus on his way out.
“What’s this?” asks Sirius. “You and our godson plotting against me?”
“Not really,” says Remus easily as he walks, no stalks, better make that prowls over to Sirius. “He just knows that we’ve been busy all day, and with Teddy down, it means we can have some time to visit.”
Visit thinks Sirius, and wonders if that is a euphemism for- If my godson knows; no, wait, there’s worse - if my godson is trying to-
Sirius halts his thought process right there. Nothing good could come from finishing that sentence.
“Ah,” says Sirius. He’s pretty sure he knows the game at this point. He’s not stupid, but there is of course one problem with this scenario.
“How are they?” asks Remus as he sits. He puts a little more emphasis on the ‘h’ then strictly necessary.
“Alive and intact,” replies Sirius, in what is more of a grunt than actual speech.
“Intact,” repeats Remus, and the way he says it, adds innuendo that the word wasn’t really designed to carry.
“Fancy a drink?” asks Sirius as he pops up. How does one say, ‘Yes, I can see where you’re going with this, but couldn’t you let me get the first one on my own. Just to make sure its all working proper?’
“What’re you having?” asks Remus. There is something amused in his tone.
Glad you can find the humor, grumbles Sirius; except that he doesn’t. “Beer.”
“I’ll just have a few sips of yours,” purrs Remus. Instead of answering, which will only give Remus another opportunity to try out his (normally rather effective) repertoire of seduction vocalizations, Sirius just retrieves the beer and resumes his seat.
Remus backs off at first, and lets Sirius relax a bit with his beer. Before long they are laughing, and shortly after that, Remus kisses him. Sirius knows that now is the time to stop this, while he could still think rationally enough to make these sorts of choices. But Remus kisses him like he was trying to swallow that obnoxious laugh of his. Like he was trying to pull it into his body through his tongue, and then rational thoughts are rendered useful in theory only.
The first wave of desire and arousal that rolls through him is different, because what has been missing, isn’t any longer. He can feel the first stirrings, and oh god oh god oh god, it is just like coming home. Suddenly he’s not thirty-eight, he’s eighteen, with a hard dick and a very willing partner he trusts.
“Slow down, Padfoot,” laughs Remus. Clearly he appreciates the enthusiasm that Sirius brings to everything he does. “Here, oh god - there you are,” he whispers in Sirius’ ear, fingers tracing along the hard ridge bulging at the front of his trousers. “I missed this.”
Sirius missed this too, but honestly, his verbal skills have lost one or two rungs on the evolutionary ladder. All he can really do is feel and respond, letting his body follow the to and fro that is quickly building to a crescendo. His hips buck into Remus hand, desperate and eager.
“If only you could see yourself, Sirius,” whispers Remus. “You are the most amazing creature when you’re about to come.”
Sirius pulls him in for a hard kiss, desperate to taste his mouth again. Remus hand presses down and rubs in earnest. Sirius explodes, heavy and light at once, a sticky wet heat flooding his pants.
“Mmm,” says Remus. “Thank you.”
Sirius raises an eyebrow to question what for, as verbal skills are still currently offline.
Remus smiles a smile caught somewhere between sheepish and smug. “I wanted to be the first to do that for you, even before you did.”
Sirius feels too good to be annoyed by that at this point. The bloody damn potion worked, and honestly, he couldn’t quite remember why that was a bad thing.
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